


night and day.

by pporksodaa



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Belgium cameo, Denmark cameo, England cameo, Finland Cameo, M/M, My head hurts, Russia Cameo, Yikes, gerameweek2018, haha im so funny, i luv puttin them in a special ops unit, like the avengers except no one has superpowers, ludwig rlly is gilbert's little brother have yall forgotten, mention of arthur kirkland, mention of killing ppl, mentions of guns, that reminds me, tho lud's muscles r p super
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 19:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15803424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pporksodaa/pseuds/pporksodaa
Summary: GerAme Week 2018, day I entry.Alfred enjoys yelling at British crime lords with mysterious eyebrow care methods and also nuclear codes, and he also enjoys being engaged to a man who would eat a spoonful of pepper to prove a point :))





	night and day.

**Author's Note:**

> yeet. i hope ya'll enjoy this, i wrote it in a few hours. luv u all. 
> 
> Kudos and (nice) comments are appreciated!

Under the dead of night, the sheath of darkness, was when tricky business happened. Business that wouldn’t be offered in any school’s extracurricular activities, or advertised in a retirement home. Business that you wouldn’t stumble upon in the mall, or find on the internet. Unsavory, and even dangerous things. 

 

Ludwig, for the most part, was the type of person who liked to spend a good Sunday night...sleeping. Most of the day on Sunday was also dedicated to sleeping. Lounging in his underwear and a good pair of socks, tucked in snug with fresh sheets and plush pillows. 

 

It was the dream. 

 

But Ludwig was also the type of person, regardless of how...pale and uninteresting he may have looked, that just so happened to be often out at night.

 

Granted, the only unsavory part of his job was the things he dealt with. At least, Ludwig didn’t like to think his personal actions were unsavory. It just depended on the point of view, he supposed. 

 

“Eyes on the prize, Beilschmidt.” 

 

A voice next to him interrupted mirages of Sunday snacks. Ludwig blinked a few times, his attention returning to the moment. Whoops. He glanced over at his partner, Timo, who was perched next to him. They lay away in the shadows, tucked not in comfortable blankets, but in stealthy black gear. He peered through the scope of a rifle, and was supposed to be diligent in his sentinel status. Sometimes, his mind did tend to wander, unfortunately. Especially in long stretches of stillness like this.

 

“You get enough sleep this week?” Timo said with a faint chuckle. 

“Not apparently,” Ludwig muttered, shaking his head and bringing his eye back the cross hairs. “The kitchen has given me a lot of trouble in terms of all the work to be done. Not to mention, I spilled paint absolutely everywhere.”

Timo giggled. “You sure you’re still okay to be up here then, butter fingers?”

“I will shoot you.”

“You couldn’t hit the water if you fell out of a boat.”

 

Ludwig scowled over at him, only to turn his attention right back to his scope when commotion suddenly arose. Through it, he saw their target approaching, with a familiar suitcase. He called it in. 

 

“This is Agent Beilschmidt and Agent Korhonen, we have eyes on target. I repeat we have eyes on target. Target is approaching the bunker as we speak.”

Ivan’s voice crackled to life in their ear pieces. “Got it. Keep eyes on target; we’ll move in. Remember, stay quiet and stay quick. Beilschmidt and Korhonen, pick off the stragglers.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

Ludwig felt his heart rate speed up, pounding through his ears and into his fingertips. A steady, quick pulse. He dared to close his eyes only for a moment, taking a deep breath, and willing his heart to slow. Adrenaline was good for close combat, or making phone calls, but not for this. No, it required a steady hand. A calm sense of decision-making. Eagle-eye accuracy. Stealth. If he got twitchy fingers, he may end up blowing it for them. 

 

Apparently, someone was already keen on blowing it. How generous. 

 

Ludwig’s eye flew open as he heard a mighty voice calling across the lot of the loading dock they were at. 

 

“Hey, Kirk-lame! Bet ya seen the last of me, huh? Guess again, Jerk-land! Hand over the briefcase and I'll go easy on ya!” 

 

Ludwig’s jaw hit the floor, and it was all he could do not to yell. There he was, Alfred, standing very much  _ not  _ quiet and  _ not  _ quick, atop a shipping container. He stood with both hands on his hips, shoulders squared, and chest puffed. The large, industrial lights swung over to him, lighting up his glasses and illuminating the nobility of his stance. Oh,  _ God _ .

 

Ivan’s voice returned to the ear pieces in an infuriated shriek. “ _ Beilschmidt _ !  _ Tell _ me that’s not your boyfriend screaming at the target! Tell me it isn’t!” 

“Oh-I...he’s my fiancee, actually, sir. But yes, that is him. Sir. It is,” Ludwig choked out. “I’m sorry.”

“Move in the rest of you and get him  _ down _ from there! Do not let Kirkland escape!”

 

Ludwig shook his head, resisting every single urge within him to yell at Alfred right now and to get down there and get the idiot off there himself. Ugh! 

 

“Aw,” Timo crooned, over the barrage of gunfire from below. “Congratulations on the engagement, Luddy!” 

“Thank you,” Ludwig scoffed, flustered.

Another voice came on the comms, this time Magnus. “That’s so cute! When were you guys gonna share the news?”

“Preferably not while we are trying to stop the untimely deaths of this side of the globe, but I suppose it can’t be helped. Thank you all for the well wishes, they are very much appreciated.”

Alfred’s voice soon joined, and Ludwig’s soul again was taken from his body as he watched Alfred swing down to the ground from the shipping container on a stray cable. “Hey, Lud, that reminds me! Who’s takin’ whose last name?”

“You guys could hyphenate!” Emmeline suggested.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Alfred chirped.

“Wedding plans can wait until  _ after _ we’re not busy!” Ivan’s voice filled the comm system again. “If any one of you dies, it’s your fault, Jones!”

Alfred chuckled. “Oh, c’mon, Boss. Ain’t it always?”

 

Ludwig rolled his eyes, letting out a frustrated groan. 

 

* * *

Alfred glanced up from staring at himself in the mirror when he heard Ludwig’s grumbling from the bathroom. “You okay, babe?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” Ludwig said, turning off the light and stepping out. “Come on, I am very hungry.”

 

Alfred nodded and followed after him, grabbing his keys as they went. It was the day after and both as an apology for what had happened and as a way to unwind, they were going out to their favorite little diner for dinner. 

 

After sleeping most of the day away, of course. 

 

He glanced over at Ludwig as they got into the car. Ludwig was often quiet for a while after a mission, but he was being a little moody at the moment as well. Usually the quietness was a product of post mission melancholy and overall lethargy. 

 

Ludwig closed the door a little too hard. 

 

Okay, well. Maybe he just had the hunger cranks. 

 

Seeking to find out just what was the problem, as the car turned a corner, Alfred said, “You look cute today. That’s my favorite sweater on you. It brings out your eyes.” 

Ludwig didn’t look at him. “Thank you.”

 

Ludwig was wearing a black sweater, one of many that he had. Oh, yikes. Alfred shifted his hands on the steering wheel. “You wanna catch a movie after dinner? It shouldn’t be too crowded today.”

“No, thank you. You can see one if you want but just drop me off first.”

“Nah, movies are no fun when you’re not there to go to the bathroom when you realize it’s boring.”

 

Ludwig gave a noncommittal ‘hm’. The rest of the drive followed in silence. 

 

The familiar, vibrant glow of the neon diner lights lit up Ludwig’s unimpressed look when Alfred swung the door open dramatically for him. Ah, shit. 

 

They hadn’t talked about what had happened, not yet anyhow. Perhaps that should have been done before they decided to out and eat dinner in public but it was fine. It’d be fine, right? Yeah, it’d be fine!

 

It wasn’t fine. 

 

Alfred knew when Ludwig sat near the back corner instead of their usual spot that it wasn’t fine. He knew when Ludwig stared at the menu for 15 minutes, even though he ordered the same thing every time they came. He knew when Ludwig just stared out the window once they had ordered. He knew when Ludwig’s forefinger began to tap absently upon the table. A rhythmic  _ tap-tap-tap-tap _ .  

 

A slightly agitated and slightly nervous warmth grew in the base of Alfred’s jaw, and he pressed his lips together. 

 

“Ludwig, I’m-” 

“Sorry?” Ludwig cut in, eyes finally meeting Alfred’s. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, because you’re not. Don’t tell me you won’t do it again, because you will.”

Alfred sighed. “Well, what do you  _ want _ me to say?” He grumbled.

“I don’t know,” Ludwig said with a shrug. “I just...explain it to me. Because I don’t  _ get _ it, Alfred, I do not understand. I get that you climb onto the roof of our home because you feel like you need some type of control-- but you know what continues to baffle me to this day? That  _ you _ feel like you need  _ control _ when you have multiple, powerful weapons strapped to you,  _ several  _ heavily trained and heavily armed cooperatives surrounding an area, and  _ orders _ . Alfred, you have orders, did you know that?”

“Ludwig, I--”

“Insubordination is  _ not _ a joke, nor is it excusable, Alfred F. Jones. One of these days, if you don’t get yourself killed because you want to play Superman in middle of a mission, then Ivan will put a hit on you. You are going to become a liability.”

“Keep your voice  _ down _ , Ludwig.”

“My voice is down!” Except no, it wasn’t.  

A few glances went their way, and Ludwig cleared his throat. He ran a hand over the front of his sweater and inhaled, held for five seconds, then exhaled and held that exhale until he could no longer. He kept his eyes closed as he continued. Quietly, this time. “If you have no regard for your own safety, then I beg that you consider the safety of others.”

Alfred glanced around and huffed, shuffling to push Ludwig over and sit next to him on the same side of the booth. “Listen, Lud, I’m just...I just gotta do my own thing sometimes, ya know? Besides, nothin’ happened to me, or anyone yet!”

“ _ Yet _ ,” Ludwig stressed in a grumble.

“Lud, come on...can we talk about this later?” Alfred asked. “I know you’re upset with me, but I just wanna have dinner with my fiance right now. Can we please talk about this later? I won’t forget, I promise.”

 

Ludwig narrowed his eyes at him but after a few long moments, he pursed his lips and waved a hand dismissively. 

 

“Fine. You’re a maniac, Alfred, a maniac!” He huffed. 

“Only on the floor!” Alfred chirped, popping a kiss on Ludwig’s cheek then going back to his own seat. “Only on the floor, babe. Give me your hand, I wanna hold it.”

Ludwig, in a mood to be a bit difficult, said, “No.”

“C’mon,” Alfred whined, stretching a hand across the table and swiping at Ludwig’s arms.

“You didn’t even say please.”

“Please, hold my hand.”

“Hm. No.”

“But I  _ love  _ you.”

“You what?”

“I love you, Lud. I love, love, love you. I love you so much; you mean the world to me.”

 

Ludwig feigned a thoughtful hum, then finally shrugged and so graciously offered his hand to Alfred. “I’ll allow it.” 

 

Alfred grinned and leaned forward on the table with his elbows, grasping the hand in his own and kissing the top of it. He sat back down and just grinned, rubbing his thumbs over Ludwig’s hand and admiring both Ludwig’s pathetic attempts to glower out the window and be pouty and at the ring around his finger. 

 

They really were getting married. Now Ludwig was going to be legally bound to Alfred’s dumbass. How cute and domestic. Speaking of being cute and domestic, he soon felt too antsy even just from across the table and made Ludwig scoot over so he could sit in next to him. Asking to give Ludwig affection may have sounded strange to others, but the last thing he wanted was to make Ludwig feel boxed in. Also, he knew Ludwig was still low key annoyed and frustrated with him. 

 

But for now, Ludwig accepted and thus Alfred peppered him in kisses and murmured away softly to him. Public affection was scarce between them, mostly because of the anxieties Ludwig had about being in public to begin with, so Alfred was fully prepared to give his sugar some sugar while he could. 

 

Ludwig just listened to him, snorting his offhand amusement here and there. Alfred had the most interesting ability to talk about anything and everything. He just  _ talked _ , and it really mystified him sometimes. He spent most of his life wondering what to say and watching opportunities and people pass him by because of it. Alfred opened his mouth and constantly had words to translate his thoughts. Well, most of the time. 

 

Sometimes, Alfred really did speak nonsense. 

 

Speaking of  _ nonsense _ , he had gotten comfortable. Too comfortable. Alfred’s fingers jabbed into his sides suddenly, and he jerked like he’d been bitten. The salt and pepper shakers clinked together, and the ketchup fell over. 

 

Alfred couldn’t help but to burst into snickers, quickly smothering with a hand. 

 

Ludwig lightly punched his arm. “You know I can kill you, right?” He hissed in a whisper, turning pink in the face. “I’ll use this ring to do it, too, I’ll do it!”

“I’m sorry, babe, I had to. I  _ had _ to,” Alfred wheezed.

“I’ll tell you what  _ I  _ have to do--”

 

Ludwig put on a polite smile as the waitress approached, thanking her as she served them. Once she had gone, he tossed a narrow-eyed look at Alfred.  _ Don’t try it again, brat _ . That’s what he hoped it said, but by Alfred’s leer it probably wasn’t convincing enough. Jeez! Wasn’t Alfred tired? Just before they had left, he had been asking for a back rub and saying he was too tired to eat. 

 

Ridiculous. 

 

Ludwig grabbed the pepper from the rack of condiments and dabbed some over his food, mixed it around, then added more. 

 

Alfred had already started eating, after a health squirt of ketchup. He had gotten a few bites down before he looked over to watch Ludwig. Physical disgust manifested on his face, a curled lip and a scrunched nose. 

 

“Nah...nah, nah,” he scoffed, standing up and moving over to his original seat again. “I can’t be seen with you like this.” 

Ludwig glanced at him. “Hush,” he muttered, finally stopping once he was satisfied.

“That’s  _ so  _ much pepper.”

“I like pepper.”

“And I like ketchup, but I can still  _ see my food _ after I use some!”

 

Ludwig stared at him, deadpan, for several moments. Even after receiving affection and plenty of it, the urge to be difficult still swung its feet energetically within him. It jumped and dove right into his arm, as he vigorously shook some into a nearby spoon and spooned it into his mouth. The horror that crossed Alfred’s face was well worth the burning in his mouth and throat. 

 

Alfred was unsure if he was more in love with or completely and utterly revolted by Ludwig at that moment. He saw both his own influence and the stubborn and childish mannerisms of  _ Gilbert _ . Oh, yeah. Ludwig wasn’t all prim and proper. No one who spent most of their life with  _ Gilbert _ could ever be just ‘normal’. Sure, eating a spoonful of pepper was a bit on the more dramatic side of not being normal. But Alfred wasn’t surprised. Disgusted, confused, and horrified. But not surprised. 

 

Just the other day, Ludwig and Gilbert were having an argument about who should call their mother. Ludwig's argument was that it should be him because he was the baby, and she would be more delighted to hear from him. Also, he could have died and she would have wanted to talk to him to make sure he was alright. Gilbert's side was that Ludwig was "a bumbling, fumbling, drooling toddler" who shouldn't have a phone to begin with, and that he was the first born and therefore the most important (and handsome). In the end, their mother called Ludwig, and Ludwig actually stuck his tongue out at Gilbert, which was...adorable but also so childish. Now  _that_ was a good word for Ludwig, when he was like this. 

 

“See, now that’s childish. You’re bein’ childish,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Drink some water, damn it. If you die before we get married, we’re gonna have to break up. Sorry. I can’t marry a dead guy.”

Ludwig chugged down his water and coughed a few times. “I feel like dying,” he muttered. “Can I eat now, without you attacking me for my dietary preferences?”

“ _ Yes _ , as long you don’t try to fuckin’ kill yourself,” Alfred said.

“I agree. It is upsetting and disturbing to watch your significant other do reckless, harmful things to themselves, isn’t it?”

Alfred closed his eyes and slumped into his seat, groaning. “Your hypocrisy is killin’ me, Lud. Look, see how I’m dead right now? It’s ‘cause ya killed me.”

Ludwig only chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m just kidding,” he said, then added a moment later, quietly, “Mostly.”

 

Alfred chuckled as well, and they finished their dinner in relative peace. After dessert, they headed home and sat down for a calm talk, which may or may not (definitely did) end in a tickle attack that nearly incapacitated Ludwig. Sure, it was fun to watch him flail around but he was also mostly leg and when that leg was kicking around, it was bound to slam against the coffee table sooner or later. That’s what Alfred said, at least, while they sat in bed with an ice pack on Ludwig’s knee. 

 

As he went to sleep last night, a lazy smile spread across Alfred’s face. He was going to marry a guy who would eat a spoonful of pepper to prove a point. 


End file.
